


Warmth

by FFcrazy15



Category: Bob's Burgers (Cartoon)
Genre: Bad Parenting, But Bob is not, Jimmy Pesto is a shitty father, Speech Disorders, good parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:34:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29044683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FFcrazy15/pseuds/FFcrazy15
Summary: Bob finds Jimmy Junior sitting on the back steps on a cold winter night, and has a talk with him about his father.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 21





	Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I neither own the rights Bob’s Burgers nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.

It was a chilly November evening settling over the wharf when Bob Belcher, proprietor of the eponymous Bob’s Burgers, shut off the exterior lights and flipped the sign to “closed.” Outside the wintry pinks and indigos striped the sky, and a cold breeze blew, making him shiver as he shut the door again behind him.

“Brr! Cold out there,” Linda commented, shivering in the breeze from the closing door as she swiveled on the bar stool, wiping down the last of the salt and pepper shakers. “What do you think, Bobby, meatloaf for dinner?”

“Sounds good, Lin. Get the kids started on their homework for me, would you? I need to take out the trash…”

“Sure thing, Bobby. Ah! Gotcha.” She scrubbed the last bit of ketchup-grime off a pepper shaker and slotted it back into its holder, before standing up. “See you in a bit,” she said, kissing him on the cheek as she passed him by.

“Yep.” His head was elsewhere, mostly on the upcoming meat bill. They were gonna be a little short again this month, not by much, but still…they could cut the cable package again…but Gene and Louise would probably be upset…

He wiped down the counters, threw on his heavy jacket, grabbed the trash bag and headed out the back door towards the alley dumpster. Maybe there was something else they could cut… he and Linda could do a cheaper date night…but no, those were important to her…

“Ouch!”

“Whoa!” Bob flung out a hand and steadied himself against the step railing, nearly falling as the person he’d almost tripped over stood up. “Oh. Sorry, Jimmy Junior, I didn’t see you there.”

“S’okay, Mr. B.” The Pesto boy rubbed his back and settled into where he was sitting on the lowest concrete step. Bob peered down at him in surprise. 

“Jimmy, what are you doing out here? It’s freezing.”

“I, uh, I just needed somewhere to think. Is that cool?”

“Uh, yeah. Totally cool.” Jimmy Jr. shivered as another cold breeze blew through the alleyway, and Bob frowned, taking stock of the boy’s clothes. “You’re not wearing a jacket,” he noted in surprise, but quickly figured out why when Jimmy’s cheeks flushed. “That’s not safe, Jimmy, you’ll catch a cold. Here.”

He took off his own and hung it over the boy’s shoulders, and then, making up his mind, sat down beside the kid. Jimmy awkwardly tugged the jacket tighter around him and looked away. “Tough day at the restaurant?” Bob guessed quietly.

Jimmy sighed. “I had a fight with my dad.”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” They sat in silence for a moment; Bob looked around the alleyway. “Nice night,” he noted, looking up at the pink and indigo clouds layering the evening sky. “Sunset’s pretty.”

“Yeah.” Jimmy hesitated, and then admitted: “He signed me up for speech therapy.”

“And… you don’t want to go?”

“I don’t need to go!” the teenager snapped defensively. “All my friends understand me just fine!” He held Bob’s gaze defiantly for a moment, and looked away again, flushing, and added in an undertone: “Dad’s the one who cares, not me.”

“O-Okay,” said Bob carefully. The boy was scowling at the ground, shoulders hunched and clearly embarrassed. “Jimmy, can I ask you something?”

“Sure, I guess.”

“If it weren’t for your Dad making you go, would _you_ want to go?”

“I-I don’t know… maybe…”

“But admitting that to your dad would be like telling him he was right to make fun of you all these years,” Bob inferred.

Jimmy looked up at him in surprise, shoulders still hunched. “...He doesn’t do that around other people,” he said in a small voice. “How did you know?”

“C’mon, Jimmy, I live across the street. I see things.”

“Oh…”

“Y’know…” Bob looked out at the dusk-filling alleyway again, “when I was around your age, maybe a little younger, I had a pretty bad stutter.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. I-it’s still not completely gone, you’ve probably noticed.”

“Oh. Um, yeah, I guess…”

“Yeah. My dad scraped together some money so I could go to a speech therapist. I-I was embarrassed at first, but it really helped me be more confident in myself.” When Jimmy Jr. didn’t answer, Bob said bluntly: “Look, Jimmy, your dad is an ass.”

“Heh. Yeah, he is.”

“So, don’t let the fact that your dad is an ass push into doing things, or not doing things, that you don’t want to do. Or do want to. Sorry. The phrasing kind of fell apart.”

“But you let my dad push you around all the time, Mr. B,” Jimmy Jr. pointed out.

“Yeah, I do. He pisses me off. A-and it makes me look pretty stupid, right?”

“Yeah. Really stupid.”

“Right.”

“Like you embarrass yourself around him a _lot.”_

“Um, okay.” Bob decided to let that one go. “Jimmy–” On instinct he set a hand on the boy’s shoulder, causing Jimmy to look surprised, “–You have nothing to be embarrassed about, and like you said, people can understand you just fine. But if _you_ want to do this, don’t let your dad be the reason you don’t.”

Jimmy pursed his lips, looking nervous, as if he expected Bob to make some sort of joke. When he didn’t, his shoulders relaxed minutely under Bob’s hand. “Thanks, Mr. B.”

“Sure. No problem.” Another blast of cold wind swept down the alley, making goosebumps rise on Bob’s bare arms. “C’mon, it’s cold out here. Let’s go inside.”

“I-I don’t wanna go home yet.”

“You could stay for dinner. Linda’s making meatloaf; it’s pretty tasty.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Jimmy followed him through the shop again as Bob locked up the restaurant and led him upstairs to the apartment. “Hey, uh, Lin!” he called as they entered the front door. “Is it okay if we have a guest over for dinner?”

“Jimmy Junior!” His oldest daughter leapt to her feet where she’d been sitting on the couch.

“Hey, Tina.”

“Oh hey, Jimmy,” Linda said, poking her head out of the dining room. “You like meatloaf?”

“He can have mine!” Louise called.

“Louise, you can’t pawn your meatloaf off on Jimmy,” Bob scolded.

“I’ll take it if he doesn’t want it,” Gene volunteered.

“Tina, can you add another place to the table?” Linda said over her shoulder as she disappeared back into the kitchen.

“It would be my greatest pleasure,” Tina said in her starstruck monotone, backing into the kitchen with her eyes still on Jimmy.

The darkness deepened outside as the family gathered for dinner, Gene talking animatedly about his day at school, peppered with Louise’s snarky commentary. Bob complimented Linda’s meatloaf as Tina mooned over their guest and Jimmy relaxed, telling a few jokes. When dinner was over, Jimmy offered to help Bob wash the dishes. Tina immediately volunteered to stay, but Linda, sensing the mood, quickly insisted that Tina go finish her homework, leaving the two men alone in the kitchen. “You’re a good dishwasher,” Bob noted as he dried the last clean meatloaf pan.

“Uh, thanks.”

They finished putting the dishes away and then headed for the front door. “Oh,” Jimmy said, remembering that he hadn’t brought a jacket, but Bob took his off the hook and handed it to the boy.

“Take it. I-I’ve got a better one.”

“...Thanks, Mr. Belcher,” Jimmy said quietly, as they started down the stairs. “Seriously.”

“It’s nothing, Jimmy, really.” As the kid opened the door, Bob added: “Jimmy.” The boy stopped at his name and looked up, surprised. Bob hesitated; there were a lot of things he wanted to say, but he didn’t want to embarrass Jimmy any more than the boy already felt. In the end he settled on: “Come over anytime you like.”

The kid blinked, and then gave an awkward smile and a nod. He waved goodbye and headed back across the street. Bob watched him until he’d made sure Jimmy had gotten into the restaurant, and then closed the door behind him. He heard the T.V. switch on somewhere above his head as Louise and Gene settled in to watch a cartoon, and Linda pacing the floor in their bedroom, and Tina talking to Tammy on the phone. It was a good night in the Belcher home, and even without his jacket, Bob felt warm and insulated against the November chill beyond. He wondered how many times he’d taken that for granted. Really, he was a lucky man.

With that thought in mind, he locked the door behind him, and headed back up the stairs.


End file.
